


Maybe everything will work out

by Hamilzander_Alexton



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Big Brother Steve, Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Bucky Barnes, Suicidal Thoughts, They're after his money, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony is abused by previous families, be careful, i wrote this instead of doing homework, no actual suicide tho, please don't read if easily triggered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamilzander_Alexton/pseuds/Hamilzander_Alexton
Summary: Tony stark, left orphaned after the death of his parents, is entered into the foster system. what follows is the worst year and a half of his life... until he ends up in New York, with a family named the RodgersCHECK THE TAGS





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! this is my first fanfic on here, please be kind! Also, I messed with the ages a bit. Tony is fifteen when his parents die instead of seventeen

     Tony Stark stared at the caskets being lowered into the ground. He worried his lip between his teeth, his mind blank for once in his life. Everything was grey and a dull hum rang in his ears. What was going on? Two days ago he had seen his parents off on their way to some type of charity event... and then he was woken by the police at the door. Everything changed so quickly. It made Tony's head spin.

 

    The funeral was packed with reporters and associates of his father. It felt impersonal and cold... no one here really cared, except maybe him and Jarvis. As horrible as it sounded, Tony blamed Howard. In his grieving, he was desperate for someone to place the blame on to. Howard was the one driving, so it only made sense that it was Howard's fault they died. Something tugged at him though, deep deep down, telling him Howard wasn't at fault. He ignored it, feeding his rage at a man who had wronged him in so many ways. A man who had taken his mother from the world and left him an orphan.

**It was December 18th, 1991. Tony Stark was 15 years old, scared and alone.**

 

\-----------

 

     After the funeral, He was driven back to his father's mansion to collect his things... it was off to the foster care system for him. Tony was reasonable anxious. The idea of being sent to live with a family of strangers wasn't exactly appealing. He had no choice, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The mansion, like all of the other Stark assets, would be kept safe for him until he turned eighteen.

 

    The next few days were all a blur, hazy and slow. Tony drifted in and out of states of dissociation, still a mess from the sudden death of his mother. He missed her dreadfully, staring at pictures he had packed for hours at a time. His nights were spent in different hotels as paperwork was filed and a case was put together for him. It took a week for the case worker to find him his first placement, a small family in upper LA, a mother, father, and a son. They were... pleasant for the first month, if not a bit too nice. Their smiles were plastic and their actions were over exaggerated. It made Tony's skin crawl.  

    Slowly but surely, the smiled faded, the words grew harsh, and Tony was walking on eggshells. The mother had him do the brunt of the house work, which wouldn't have been horrible in itself, if she didn't berate him for the simplest mistakes. The son 'roughhoused' with him... except, it was more like a personal beat-down everyday. And the father... Dear god, the father. He was the worst. He whipped the teen for the smallest infractions, sent him to dinner without supper nearly every night, locked him up in the closet as punishments. Whatever the man felt was necessary was what happened.  Life was somehow worse with this family than it was with Howard as his father. 

   Poor Tony. He reported them, not knowing what else he could possibly do. It didn't make the abuse stop, if anything, It worsened it. His case was only properly looked into after the boy ended up in the hospital with a crushed sternum (from an unfortunate encounter with a metal baseball bat). The recovery was fairly simple though (Rest and let the break heal naturally), so that was good. The time spent in the hospital gave him time to reflect on life though... specifically whether or not he wanted to continue it. He decided that he didn't have that option... his mother would be so disappointed. Even though he nipped that thought process at the bud, it never quite left the back of his mind.


	2. And it happens again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for Tones :(, but don't worry. He done taking people's shit

     

 

 

 

        His recovery went well, according to the doctor at least. Tony still felt like complete shit. It pained him to do even the simplest things. He couldn't breathe without sharp pains shooting though his entire chest. The doctor told him that they had found metal shards embedded in his heart, most likely driven in there when his foster father was beating his chest in with the aluminium bat. He was also informed that most people only suffer injuries like this in car accidents (ironic, huh?). That scrap of information gave him a bit of insight as to just how hard he was being hit. It was for such a stupid reason too....

 

   _ **He forgot to finish the dishes**_

 

   Though, he supposed that none of that mattered now. He was out of that house and on to the next... a group home. That was fine. He could deal with neglect. Hell, lord knew he was neglected enough by Howard. He could even deal with abuse now if that's what it came to. 

   You see, Tony had gotten his hands on some books written by abuse survivours, attempting to find a proper way to cope. Very early on he decided he wasn't going to be some wilting willow. **_He was angry._** He was pissed off at the entire world, and he was damn well entitled to his anger. He'd been fucked five ways to Sunday by circumstance and he wasn't about to sit around and take it. The teen immersed himself in researching different types of self defence. Once was enough for him. If anyone else put his hands on him, they'd severely regret it. 

 

\----------

 

The group home was disgusting, unkempt and dingy. Tony's lip curled, but he smartly kept his mouth shut. There was no need to make enemies with the staff. At least, not this early on.

    Everyone was nice upon arrival. Too nice. Too careful. Tony wasn't some traumatised little boy. He was fifteen, and he'd be damned if he was going to be treated like a child just because his last placement decided to rough him up. Not every abuse survivour coped by cowering away and avoiding people. Some got even, snapped at people, acted aggressive. Lucky for his new legal guardians (or maybe unlucky) Tony fell into the second category. 

 

\----------

 

"Anthony?" asked one of the older boys. Tony could tell the other was sizing him up a bit. 

 

He glared, "It's Tony." The boy spat, as if the words were acid on his fucking tongue. 

 

The older boy just laughed, "Alright, Tony it is then, tough guy. What's with the chip on your shoulder?"

 

"Is that really your fuckin' business, dickhead?"

 

"I guess not, Tony. I'm just trying to extend the proverbial olive branch. I'm James Rhodes."


	3. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i haven't updated in ages! I really am not good with updating on a schedule, but I'll try and update more frequently

   

 

 

    James, Or Rhodey as Tony soon came to call him, was really the only person in this damn place Tony didn't hate. He was a decent guy, and their friendship grew rather fast. It  was nice, to have an actual friend. Tony hadn't really had genuine friends before. Sure, he had kids around his age that he hung out with, but he wouldn't consider them friends. He would consider them... acquaintances at most. Keeping people at arm's length seemed, for Tony, to be the best course of action. Rhodey changed that, in a way. He seemed to actually care about Tony, in some capacity. 

   He helped the teen get enough food when the adults didn't feed them, he gave Tony an extra blanket (because New York was even colder in the winter when you're used to Malibu), he helped the kid through his nightmares. All around, Rhodey was a good guy, and Tony considered himself lucky to have a friend.

 

**Until he didn't**

 

   The day Rhodey got adopted, Tony felt as though circumstance had fucked him over yet again. He felt sick to his stomach as he watched Rhodey packing his things.

 

   "Don't worry, Tones. I'm going to keep contact, okay?''

 

   "Yeah, alright." He muttered, staring at the floor. "You're my only friend, Rhodey. I dunno what I'm gonna do without being able to see you everyday."

 

    Rhodey nodded solemnly, "I know, Tones. You have a phone, I have a phone. I'll text you every day. I promise."

 

    Tony stood from the bed he was sitting on, crossing the room in a few swift steps. "You fucking better." He hissed. 

 

 

      As Rhodey left, Tony bit back a few tears that threatened to roll down his cheeks. He was a stark, and Stark men were made of iron. With Rhodey gone, Tony had no real reason to try and stay in the group home. He didn't have reason to "behave" any more. No reason to put up with the other kids and their bullshit.

 

     He was getting into fights everyday, bruises coated his tan skin. Broken bones and deep cuts were a near weekly occurance. 

 

     It didn't take long for the group home to send him away. He packed his bags with a self-satisfied smile. 


	4. chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oof, sorry this is so late

 

    Tony's caseworker was painfully cheerful, with a smile that reminded him of some character you'd see in a cartoon, a sort of full-toothed grin. At this point in life, Tony had had enough of fake smiles and bright despositions. He didn't interact with his caseworker any more than he needed to. He sat silently, hands folded in his lap with bruised knuckles showing clear. As the woman debriefed him about his new placement,he felt more like a soldier preparing for a mission than a kid going home. Although, he wasn't going home. He was going to _**a home**_ , but he wasn't going home. No, he wouldn't be allowed to go home for another three years or so. The thought churned his stomach.

   The Rodgers. That was the family he would be staying with, a mother named Sarah and her son, Steven. Tony gave a little wince at that, he didn't like the idea of having a foster brother again, it didn't end up too well the first time. Still, he kept his mouth shut, didn't complain, because honestly, what good would complaining do him?  Besides label him high-maintanace and get him slapped around a bit more.  With nerves eating him up from the inside out, he decided to text Rhodey, maybe assauge that anxiety a bit.

**Tony: hey rhodester. What's up?**

**Rhodey: Not too much that I can't talk to you. How's things at the group home**

  **Tony: I got kicked out, started too many fights ig. I'm actually on my way to the new place now, a mom and her son.**

**Rhodey: Thats rough, Tones. u still gna be in NYC?**

**Tony: Yeah, Brooklyn. How's the adoption? They treating u right?**

**Rhodey: Yeah, They're treating me better than I could've hoped. Ur gna be in Brooklyn? What part, that's where I live**

**Tony: Uh, caseworker says brooklyn heights, wherever that is ig.  
**

**Rhodey: No fuckin' way! That's my neighbourhood, Tones! We'll prolly go to the same school and everything!**

**Tony: Wait, really? Thats so cool! Oh my god, I can't wait to see u!**

**Rhodey: <3 I'll come see u when u get settled**

**Tony: Okok, Sounds perfect**

Tony tucked his phone into his pocket, feeling significantly better. He could feel the swell of excitement in his chest. Perhaps this placement wouldn't be as terrible as he anticipated.

 

\---------------

 

     Upon arrival, Tony was severely underwhelmed.. The quaint apartment building just didn't peak his interest when he was used to extravagant decor and lavish buildings twenty stories high. It wasn't as if he was turning his nose to the building and judging it.. He just wasn't drawn to it the same way he was drawn to skyscrapers and mansions. Tony sighed, shouldering his bag. He didn't have much,between the past family and the group home, much of his bigger things were lost or thrown out. he only really had a few changes of clothes, some sentimental items, and his phone now. Oddly enough though, that didn't bother him too much. On the contrary, Tony found it rather relieving to not have as much stuff.. though he'd never admit that. Who would believe that a boy who had everything was now content with nearly nothing?

   Sarah Rodgers was sweet enough, with a smile warm enough to melt butter and a baby blue gingham apron. She looked something straight out of the 1940s, with her blonde hair done up in curls and light makeup. In a way, she reminded Tony of his own mother, all smiles and cheer. At least, that's how Maria was when away from Howard.

  He said hello, shook her hand firmly.. and suddenly, he was alone, Mrs. Rodgers and his caseworker had gone off to talk about paperwork. He sighed softly to himself, worrying his lower lip. Tony took a seat, occupying himself with his phone.

   


End file.
